


'Til My Lungs Give Out

by Kacka



Series: Kacka Does a Thing [15]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 03:22:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10733121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kacka/pseuds/Kacka
Summary: Clarke wants to adopt her goddaughter, but the baby's family won't give her to a single parent. She's not completely convinced marrying Bellamy is a good idea, but it's pretty much the only one she's got.





	'Til My Lungs Give Out

**Author's Note:**

> I know nothing about how adoption worked and did minimal Googling.
> 
> To the anon who prompted this, thank you so much! I hope you like it :)

"Thank f-- goodness, I thought you'd never get here."

Bellamy smirks and holds his hands out for Sophie, who is babbling and reaching for him. She's always been a friendly baby-- takes after Wells in that respect, he thinks-- and he's been around enough the past few months that she's used to him, but it always makes him a little smug that she likes him enough to leave her favorite place, which is Clarke's arms.

"What's going on?" He asks, wincing when chubby little hands clench at his hair. Clarke makes a tutting noise and works his hair out of Sophie's grasp, giving her a toy to hold instead. The baby immediately puts the stuffed giraffe's ear in her mouth, which Bellamy takes as her seal of approval.

"Come inside," Clarke sighs, running a hand over her disheveled braid and making a face. Hair-pulling has been a pretty common theme lately, just another thing Clarke had to adjust to after being suddenly thrust into parenthood.

Bellamy was a little surprised she wanted to take the kid. Thelonius had kept Sophie for a while immediately after the accident that killed Wells and Maya, but that hadn't been a permanent solution. He and Clarke had sat down with a social worker, who suggested that Clarke take Sophie on a trial basis, a few months after which they would all decide if it was the right placement for the eight-month-old.

It hasn't been easy going. Clarke had no idea what to do with a baby, so naturally she'd called in reinforcements (Bellamy for the most part, Abby on occasion). He spent a lot of nights on Clarke's couch at the beginning, but after a few weeks she decided she needed to be able to handle it more on her own if she was seriously going to consider adopting.

(Bellamy still worries about her, of course, and still comes over all the time, but if he calls it hanging out instead of helping out, she allows it.)

So he's pretty surprised when he gets an SOS text a week or so before Sophie's first birthday.

"Seriously," he says, the baby looking up at him with her big brown eyes, giraffe securely in mouth. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know." He can hear the fatigue in her voice more clearly now and it makes him frown. "I had an appointment with Anya today."

"The social worker?"

"Yeah." When she sinks to the couch, she pulls her knees up against her chest, smiling a little as Sophie tucks her head under Bellamy's chin, her eyelids drooping. It's probably time for her nap soon.

"Did you guys get started on the adoption paperwork?"

"Not exactly." Clarke bites her lip. "It turns out I might not get to keep her."

"What are you talking about?"

His voice comes out harsher than he means it to, already angry on Clarke and Sophie's behalf, but it startles the baby enough she starts to whimper. Clarke takes her from him and she settles a little as Clarke rocks her and rubs her back.

"What are you talking about?" He asks again, this time tempering his voice.

"Maya's dad wants her raised with two parents," Clarke tells him, burying her nose in Sophie's soft curls. "He said he did the single parent thing and it's harder on me and on her than I think it will be."

"What does Thelonius say?"

"He thinks he has a point. It's not a dealbreaker for him, but he won't fight Mr. Vie on it." Her voice wavers and she takes a deep, shaky breath. "Bellamy, I don't have any legal claim to her. She goes to next of kin, and if they don't want to give her to me--"

Bellamy scoots closer, enveloping both of them under his arm, and Clarke curls into his side. He can tell it breaks her heart to think of giving Sophie up now, and it breaks his to think about how much this is hurting her. Part of him wants to keep hugging her until things are better, and part of him wants to fight the entire world. Neither is an exceptionally practical plan.

"We'll figure something out," he promises.

"What are we going to figure out?" She asks, words as dry as her voice is watery. "There are plenty of couples who want babies. She'll go to a good home, right?"

"She already has a good home."

Clarke is quiet for a moment. "They could be right, though. I don't know everything after just two months. It probably will get harder to do this alone."

"You were never alone," he grumbles, trying not to think about the implications of his words. "I'm always here for both of you, you know that. And you might find someone you want to marry one day." She doesn't say anything, so he asks, "Do you want to keep her?"

"Yeah," she says, soft. "I really do."

"Then-- tell them I'm in. If it's two parents they want, tell them I'm with you two every step of the way."

She snorts. "I think they're looking for something a little more legally binding."

"Then let's get married."

Clarke startles at this, pulling out from under his arm to turn and look at him. His hand slips to her lower back and he pulls it away like it's been burned.

"You're kidding, right?"

He shrugs, uncomfortable under her piercing blue gaze. She hasn't given him a look this searching, this skeptical, since his jackassery in the early days of their acquaintanceship.

"You're not kidding."

"I told you: you were never in this alone. I was always going to help."

"Bellamy, that's seventeen years you're talking about. Minimum."

"Or until you find someone you want to marry more," he points out. She ignores this, standing and jerking her head for him to follow. They go and put Sophie, who is already halfway to sleep, down for her nap. The silence between them remains tense and unbroken until Sophie's door clicks shut behind them.

"I can't ask you to do this," Clarke hisses, crossing her arms.

He crosses his right back.

"You're not asking. I'm offering."

"You're offering to marry me so you can help raise a kid that isn't even yours to raise?"

Bellamy doesn't have a good comeback for this. He can't tell her that of course he wants to marry her and raise a kid, or kids, with her. Can't tell her that he's been in love with her almost the entire time he's known her, and that he'd do just about anything for her. She doesn't need him to put that on her right now, not with everything else she's going through.

"Yeah," he says instead. "I am."

She scowls.

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"Clarke--"

"I'll figure something else out."

He clenches his jaw. "Like what?"

"I don't know," she huffs. "If I knew, I'd have already suggested it."

Bellamy shakes his head. "I'm not taking back the offer. But-- whatever you need, Clarke. You know that, right?"

She deflates and lets her chin fall to her chest, stepping closer. He physically can't stop himself from reaching for her, drawing her into a hug.

"I'll figure something else out," she says again, her voice muffled in his chest.

He clutches her closer. "Keep me posted."

* * *

Sophie's birthday party is a family affair, meaning both grandfathers will be in attendance, as well as Clarke's mother (who is supportive but still unsure about the whole thing). It'll be a room full of people who love Sophie but aren't totally on board with Clarke raising her, so she makes her tried and true best defensive move: she invites Bellamy.

"Obviously," he says when she asks if he'll be there. "I already got her a present."

"What is it?"

"I can't tell you now," he says, indicating the baby seated between his legs. It's always a lot to handle, seeing him around Sophie, and it doesn't help that Soph likes having him close by. Her favorite is to have both of them sitting with her on the floor, crawling wherever she pleases.

More often than not, it pleases her to be near Bellamy.

"Like she can understand what you're saying." Clarke rolls her eyes.

Sophie turns to her and holds up a soft, crinkly book for Clarke to see, promptly dropping it. Bellamy picks it up for her and Soph gives him a big grin, the kind that makes Clarke's heart skip a beat. Not unlike the beat it skips when he grins back at her, all tenderness and delight.

Yeah, it's a lot, seeing them together. And it's been even more difficult to wrap her mind and heart around since he-- can it really be considered proposing? Clarke isn't sure.

She's not opposed to the idea of marrying Bellamy, not if they'd dated for a while and he loved her as much as she loves him. But he spent the better part of his life raising Octavia already; he deserves to have a life of his own now, not to be tied down to a family that isn't his responsibility.

"She can understand plenty," he argues. "Just try feeding her p-e-a-c-h-e-s again."

Clarke shudders, remembering. "You're right, I doubt that would go over well."

Even though she invited Raven and Monty and Miller too, it's nice to have Bellamy by her side as Mr. Vie takes in her townhouse with a critical eye, as Thelonius and Abby make pointed comments about her finances and social life taking a hit over the past couple of months. It's nice to have him stepping in with comebacks she wishes she'd thought of, and it's even nicer to have him teasing her, making jokes, easing the tension in the room.

It doesn't hurt either that when Soph gets cranky and overwhelmed by all the people, and Clarke is in the other room with her mother, she reaches straight for Bellamy.

"Hey," he says softly, sticking his head into the room just enough to see that Sophie has buried herself in his shoulder. "I'm putting her down. Just wanted to let you know."

"I'll come with you," Clarke says instantly. She can feel her mother's eyes on her back as they head up the stairs, her goddaughter clinging to her best friend like he's someone important. Like he's someone she loves.

And he is, Clarke realizes, watching him hush her gently when she starts to fuss.

It had been really rough right after the accident, Sophie inconsolable at times when she was most missing her parents. But Bellamy had been there for both of them. He's been there almost every day since.

Clarke doesn't know what she'd do without him.

Sophie whimpers, babbling the syllables over and over that she strings together when she wants her giraffe, and when Clarke brings it over, Soph reaches for both of them.

"Maaa," she whimpers, latching onto her braid before Clarke can stop her.

Bellamy gives Sophie her pacifier and extracts Clarke's hair with firm but gentle motions. Clarke has a lump in the back of her throat the size of a softball, her eyes watering for what feels like the millionth time in the last few days.

"She's trying to call you Mommy," Bellamy says softly.

Clarke nods, unable to form words just now, and kisses Sophie's hair before setting her in her crib.

She's more certain than ever that she can't lose her.

Bellamy guides her out of the room with a hand on the small of her back, keeps it there as they descend back to the living room full of people.

Clarke stops him before they hit the bottom of the stairs, surprised by his closeness, by the emotion in his eyes.

"Are you sure?" She whispers.

"Absolutely." He doesn't even need to ask what she's talking about, just answers and lifts his finger to catch the tear slipping from the corner of her eye, smiling. "You want me to get down on one knee?"

She laughs. "That's not necessary. Besides, I feel like I should be the one proposing to you."

"Yeah, well, you snooze, you lose." He pauses. "You want a ring?"

"Do you have a ring?"

He gives her a crooked smile and reaches into his pocket. Clarke's heart speeds up when he pulls out a little drawstring pouch.

"It was my mom's," he explains, holding it out to her. It's small and simple and elegant, and Clarke wishes he was offering it to her for keeps. "I've been carrying it around in case you changed your mind."

She lets him put it on her finger, mostly because she can't stop staring at it.

"This is really happening, huh?"

"Sorry," he teases. "You're stuck with me for a while."

Clarke shakes her head, not letting him make a joke out of it. "Anytime you want out, all you have to do is say the word."

"Back at you."

They both stare at her hand for another moment, and then Bellamy deliberately pulls it down to her side, lacing his fingers through hers.

"You want to tell them now?"

Clarke sighs and squeezes his hand tighter. "No time like the present."

* * *

They go to city hall on their lunch break the following Tuesday.

Clarke has been working from home since she got custody of Sophie but Raven offered to babysit while they tied the knot (after a very short, very intense conversation with Bellamy about how he's in love with Clarke. It's terrifying to have said it aloud, and even more terrifying that it didn't surprise Raven in the slightest).

They exchange vows and share a quick, perfunctory kiss, then go straight to Anya's office to start the requisite paperwork.

Bellamy is a little bit surprised how easily everyone accepted the story that he and Clarke were secretly dating and had decided to get married for Sophie's benefit after Mr. Vie raised his hesitations. They filled their friends in later on the full details, but even they hadn't questioned it as much as Bellamy thought they should have.

Sooner than he expected, he's standing on a bright sidewalk with Clarke. His wife. To whom he is married.

"Lunch?" He asks, fidgeting with the ring that now sits on his left hand.

"I was kind of hoping to get back to Sophie," Clarke admits.

Bellamy nods. "So let's go. We can get subs delivered."

"You want subs for your wedding meal?"

"You got a better idea?"

"I was thinking that new Mediterranean restaurant we've been wanting to try."

He groans just thinking about it. "That's such a better idea. I knew I married you for a reason."

Clarke grins, bright and sharp. "I thought it was my dazzling personality and stunning good looks."

"That's the official story," he agrees, straight-faced. "But between you and me, it's mostly your takeout-ordering skills."

"Well, it's definitely not my cooking."

"You got that right."

They swing by his apartment on the way to her place to grab a load of his things. His lease doesn't run out for a few months and he still has to sell some of his furniture, so they've been moving him in with Clarke and Sophie gradually.

He's still sleeping at his place or on her couch for now. They aren't talking about that yet. It's fine.

When they get back to Clarke's place, Raven has a reception waiting for them.

"Yeah, you really should've seen this coming," Miller says, bouncing Sophie casually on his hip as if it's something he does every day. Monty is pretty blatantly staring from across the room, which is the only reason Bellamy doesn't take the baby from his friend.

"We really should have," Bellamy agrees, making a silly face at Soph until she giggles. "I see that there's booze. Is there cake as well?"

"Chocolate lava. Lincoln made it."

"F--rack yes."

Miller smirks at the swerve. "Only the best for your wedding, buddy."

"Sure," he snorts. "That's why there's a Minion piñata duct-taped to the ceiling."

"You're welcome!" Raven calls across the room. He raises his cup to her.

"Classy as ever, Reyes."

His eyes catch on Clarke's smile, more relaxed than he's seen her in weeks as she chats with Monty and Lincoln. He doesn't realize he's staring until Sophie makes a noise of mild discontent.

"So your wedding night, huh?" Miller says knowingly when Bellamy returns his attention to them.

Bellamy rolls his eyes. "It's not like that."

"Not yet."

"Shut the frack up."

"I'm just saying, you've been in love with her for years now. You're married. All you did was skip a step. It can't be that hard to go back and connect the dots."

"There's too much going on right now," Bellamy hedges. "I'm waiting for things to settle."

"Dude." Miller is unimpressed, and rightfully so. "You have a kid now. Things aren't going to settle."

As if underscoring his point, Sophie makes a noise Bellamy can only describe as yodeling. He hands her off to Bellamy, who takes a whiff of her diaper and makes a face.

"Yep. Time for a change. Looks like Uncle Nate isn't the only one full of shit today."

"Looks like one of the juveniles in this family has their shit together," Miller shoots back. Bellamy gives him the finger as he leaves the room and his laughter follows him and Sophie all the way up the stairs.

* * *

Clarke knows she's chickening out, letting Bellamy sleep on the couch whenever he spends the night, but it isn't until he sells his own bed from his apartment that she finally cracks.

It's just-- she knows how much she's going to enjoy having him there, okay? She always likes sharing a bed with someone, likes that weight and steady breathing nearby to put her at ease. And she knows from recent experience that she likes morning Bellamy, soft smiles and sleepy eyes, him being the first person she sees in the morning, the mutual understanding they share when Sophie wakes in the middle of the night and they both go to check on her. Somehow actually planning to wake up next to him seems like a lot bigger of a deal.

She's nervous the whole day, nervous when he comes over after work and she realizes it feels like he's coming home, nervous when he cleans up the kitchen while she puts Sophie to bed, nervous as they sit together on her couch (as they've done a million times before) and zone out in front of Netflix.

Nervous when she stands up, ready to head to bed herself, and stretches.

But then Bellamy starts arranging the pillows the way he likes them, ready to spend the night on her too-short couch yet again, and fondness mutes the buzzing of her nerves.

"Come on," she says, holding a hand out. He raises his eyebrows but lets her pull him up off the couch, trusting her, always.

"Where am I going?"

"To bed," she makes herself say. And doesn't blush. Much. "We are married, after all. What's mine is yours and all that."

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable," he protests, dragging his feet. Clarke glares at him until he stops resisting.

"It's just new," she grumbles. "It's no big deal."

"Yeah, I can tell you're really laid-back about it."

"Shut up and pick a side."

She resolutely doesn't look at him as she rifles through her drawers for pajamas to change into. Vaguely, she can hear him shuffling out of his jeans and under the covers, and even that is making her ears turn hot. When she emerges from the bathroom and sees him in her bed for the first time, casually lounging as he scrolls through his phone, she has to take a moment to collect herself.

He looks up at her and smiles. "Okay?"

"Okay," she affirms, and slides in beside him.

They lay side-by-side for Clarke doesn't know how long, staring up at the darkness, until finally he sighs and wiggles to get comfortable.

"So," he says, "according to Miller, I sometimes talk in my sleep."

Clarke smiles. "What do you talk about?"

"Mostly stuff he couldn't make out." She can hear that he's smiling too, and all of a sudden she isn't nervous anymore. It's just Bellamy. They can do this. "One time I apparently mentioned Ivan the Terrible."

"Nerd."

"Guilty as charged."

"I toss and turn a lot," she admits. "And Lexa said sometimes I kicked her. So... get ready for that."

"I'm not surprised you try to fight people even in your sleep."

"I'm not surprised _you_ talk people to death in your sleep."

"That's fair," he laughs, rolling over. "Goodnight, Clarke."

"Night, Bellamy."

After that, it's easy to drift off.

* * *

Bellamy wakes before Clarke does. It's kind of a relief, really, being able to stumble out of bed and through the house to the bag of his clothes and bathroom stuff he'd forgotten by the couch in Clarke's haste to get the awkwardness over with. He has to admit, it's kind of hard to leave her there and not do something embarrassing (like try to spoon her) when he sees her looking so peaceful and warm, all rosy cheeks and messy hair fanned across her pillow. He wonders how long it'll be before he starts spooning her in his sleep, and that's enough to get him up and going.

Once he's dressed and has coffee brewing, he's at a loss. It doesn't feel like his place, even though he's basically been living in the house as long as Sophie has. He debates just leaving, heading for breakfast before work, or back to his apartment (that isn't his for much longer) to shower, but that makes him feel a little sleazy for reasons he can't quite explain.

He decides to check on Sophie and finds her alert and content in her crib. She gurgles happily when she sees him, pulling herself up by the bars and reaching for him.

"Hey, big girl," he coos, picking her up and making a face at the diaper smell. "Let's get you ready for the day."

She's chatty this morning, running her mouth the entire time he's working, and when he's finished they're both grinning.

"Tell me about it," he agrees when she grabs his nose and spouts some baby talk with a comically serious expression.

Clarke laughs and he turns to see her standing in the doorway, glasses (that really _work_ for him) sharpening her sleep-muddled gaze.

"I could've gotten her," she says, stepping back as he carries Sophie out and starts for the steps. "But thanks."

"It's not like I'm babysitting," he points out. "This is what I'm here for. We're a team now."

She ducks her head. "I know. I just-- might need reminding."

"I can handle that."

Sophie squirms in his arms and makes one of her hungry noises.

"We're on it, baby," he assures her, grabbing a clean bottle. "Just hold tight."

After that it's just like any other morning after he's spent the night at Clarke's place. He watches Sophie while Clarke showers and gets dressed, and hands her off when it's time for him to leave for work. It strikes him how easy and automatic this routine of theirs has become, how like a family they really are, and it tugs at his heart as he drops a kiss on Sophie's head.

"Have a good day at work, honey," Clarke says with a wry smile. Bellamy snorts and kisses her hair too, for good measure.

"See you later," he mutters, ducking his head so she won't see his dumbstruck expression as he rushes out the door.

As he's pulling away from the curb, he sees them standing in the doorway, Clarke trying to get Sophie to wave goodbye, and there's that tug again. It stays with him through his whole commute, even follows him into the office, potent as ever when he checks his text and finds one waiting for him.

**Clarke:** & DON'T be late for dinner! *drumstick emoji**pizza emoji**taco emoji*

**Bellamy:** How could I be late when I'm the one who's going to be cooking?  
Also eat a vegetable sometime, Princess. What kind of example are you setting for the kid?

**Clarke:** Excuse you  
Pizza is a v important food group  
Ditto tacos

**Bellamy:** Good thing Sophie's gonna have me around to teach her how to eat right.

**Clarke:** [0019284.img]  
Idk I think she's got her favorite food group all picked out

He clicks on the photo before he's even thought about it, and he grins when he sees a selfie of Sophie in Clarke's lap, grinning wide around that damn giraffe that's in her mouth yet again. In the upper corner of the photo he can just make out Clarke's lips having fallen open in laughter, the mole above her lip, the shape of them, unmistakeable.

When he clicks away from it again, Clarke has sent a follow-up.

**Clarke:** Nutritious AND delicious

**Bellamy:** Truly the whole package

He saves it as his lock screen and tries not to think about how far gone he is. Because this? This, he thinks he could get used to.

* * *

"You've got to admit, this is a little much. Even for you guys."

Clarke makes a face at him over Sophie's head, but it turns to a grin as she shrieks in laughter. The swing set in their neighborhood is a guaranteed hit, and now that it's getting nicer out Clarke tries to take Sophie out in the afternoons to give both of them a little contact with the outside world.

Working from home has been a huge help the past few months, has really helped her bond with the baby, but she's always relieved to have another adult around. (It's yet another fringe benefit of marrying Bellamy, the cherry on top of the sundae that is bed-sharing and getting to see him every day and getting to keep Sophie.)

"I mean," Monty continues, barely audible over Sophie's delight as he pushes her again, "You're sleeping together but you're not _sleeping together._ What's that about?"

"It's called being friends."

"Friends who are married. And have a kid. And are clearly in love."

"Two out of three," she shrugs. "And really, she's my kid. He's my backup."

"You don't really believe that, do you?" Monty asks, giving her the look of perfect skepticism he usually reserves for Jasper's schemes. "He falls in love with every kid he meets. There was a two-year-old in line in front of us at Target the other day who wanted to show us all of his trucks and Bellamy didn't shut up about it for like an hour."

Clarke bites back on a fond smile. He might have mentioned that child to her when he got home several hours after the fact. She doesn't know when she started finding that adorable, but it was probably around the same time that Sophie came to live with her.

"I still feel so guilty. I always knew he'd do anything for his friends, but I never intended to put that to the test. I don't regret it for a second," she adds, her heart light as she watches Sophie giggle. "He just gave up so much. Free time, a social life... dating. I don't want him to regret it."

"He'd regret it more if he didn't do everything he could to help you," Monty points out. "Besides, it's not like divorce doesn't exist. That's always an option, you know, if he does wake up one day with no memories and a completely new personality and decide that he doesn't want to be married to you anymore."

Clarke throws him a scathing look and Monty grins.

"I think you're overestimating what a big deal this is."

"I think you're underestimating how badly he wants to be married to you," Monty shoots back.

And maybe Clarke has been spending too much time around a one-year-old, because the only comeback she can think of is to stick her tongue out.

It's nearly time for Sophie's nap when Monty smirks and waves at someone behind Clarke. She turns around to find Bellamy strolling up to them. He's got his hands in his pockets, tie loose and top buttons unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up, and it _does things_ to her.

Clarke assumes at some point she'll get used to that pull of attraction she gets every time she sees him. Today is not that day.

"Thought I might find you guys here. Hey, Monty." he says when he gets close, tickling Sophie's leg as she swings by.

"Hey, Bellamy. Good timing, actually. I was just leaving."

"And we all know I'm not old enough to look after myself," Clarke says dryly.

"Exactly." Monty ruffles Sophie's hair and then Bellamy's, waving as he heads out. Soph is getting restless and she starts whining until Clarke picks her up and blows a raspberry on her tummy. She squirms and laughs, and when Clarke pulls away, she finds Bellamy watching them with soft eyes.

"I think we're ready for a nap," she says, flushing.

He nods. "Lead the way, Princess."

Sophie refuses to be buckled into her stroller, crying plaintively until Bellamy folds (as usual) and hoists her into his arms.

They pass an elderly couple in the crosswalk and Clarke pulls the empty stroller in line behind Bellamy and Sophie, giving the couple more room to go by.

"What a lovely family," the woman says.

Clarke smiles, her eyes catching on his broad shoulders and untidy curls as he nods very seriously at Sophie's nonsensical monologuing. She can see how the three of them would look through a stranger's eyes-- young and cute and, if Monty is to be believed, in love. 

But even if her marriage to Bellamy remains a sham, stays entirely for Sophie's benefit, Clarke knows what she feels for him surpasses every romantic notion she's ever had before. He's more to her than a crush, more to her than she'd feel for a lover.

He really is family.

"Thank you," she tells the woman. "I'm very lucky."

* * *

Mr. Vie comes by on a rainy Wednesday night about a month into the marriage, and Bellamy doesn't know quite what to expect.

It's been going well, he thinks. The house feels more like his place (especially now that he's contributing to rent and diapers and other essentials), he and Clarke are hardly ever awkward anymore, and Sophie seems to be on the verge of walking and talking. Mostly, he thinks they're happy.

Well, mostly he thinks they're exhausted-- him and Clarke more so than Sophie, though babies need a _ton_ of sleep-- and still adjusting, still finding their balance together. But things are good. They're doing more than scraping by on luck and sheer force of will; he thinks it's a sustainable pattern they're settling into.

If it keeps going the way it's been going, he thinks it could be really _good_.

And honestly, Mr. Vie could just be dropping by for some quality time with his granddaughter. Thelonius takes her for a night every other week, during which time Bellamy and Clarke usually pass out on their bed together, her laptop playing Netflix between them. (Not the stuff romance novels are made of, but Bellamy relishes that time all the same.) It's not unheard of that Mr. Vie would want to spend some time with Sophie, to get to know her, to connect to Maya in some way.

Still, Bellamy is on edge, as is Sophie, who spends the entire evening fussing like she normally doesn't.

She starts flat-out bawling when her grandfather is the one picking her up and trying to soothe her instead of him or Clarke, an ear-splitting, heart-wrenching sound that matches the distraught expression on her red little face and the agitated flailing of her tiny fists.

"She's been cranky all day," Clarke says apologetically when Mr. Vie finally gives up and lets Bellamy scoop Sophie from his arms. "It's not you. She didn't nap well."

"It's been a while but I remember what they're like at that age," Mr. Vie says in a neutral, impossible-to-read tone. "I came to speak with you anyway."

He and Clarke exchange a look of trepidation, Sophie still sobbing on his shoulder.

"We'll give you two some privacy. Maybe she'll be happier to see Grandpa once she wears herself out," Bellamy offers.

Clarke nods, determination carved into her features, and though he trusts that she can handle this-- can handle anything-- on her own, he's loathe to leave her.

He tries everything he can think of to quiet Sophie: pacing laps in her room, turning on the wave machine they use to lull her to sleep, offering her the giraffe (which she bats out of his hand), even the stream of consciousness running commentary thing he does when she won't go back to sleep in the middle of the night. Eventually some combination must get to her, because she sniffles and whimpers but falls mostly silent.

That's when he starts to hear the voices floating up the stairs.

"--playing house with my granddaughter," Mr. Vie is saying. His tone isn't hostile, just tired, which is almost worse.

Bellamy wants to be angry. Clarke loves people with her whole heart, and once she decided Sophie was going to be hers, there would never be anyone in her life who loves her better. He wants to be furious, but part of him can't help but be reluctantly glad Sophie has so many people who are willing to fight for her. He's got firsthand experience with the foster system, and he wishes he had this many people who were this capable and this zealous about getting him and O into a good home.

"I can tell that he loves you and Sophie very much," Mr. Vie continues, and Bellamy realizes they're discussing him. "But you said yourself it's a somewhat new relationship. These things don't always work out the way we want them to, and I don't want Sophie getting attached to someone who won't always be in her life. She's already lost enough."

"We haven't been together that long," Clarke grants, "but I've known Bellamy for years. I didn't just marry him because I love him. I married him because-- he's the best man I know. I've always been able to count on him. He'd never let Sophie down."

All of a sudden, Bellamy feels like he's cheating, listening in when Clarke doesn't know he can hear her. When he can't shout all of her best qualities back at her until she understands just how much she means to him. He leans against the door until it clicks softly shut and slumps against it, Sophie half asleep against his chest.

She starts crying again, the pathetic half-hearted attempt that means she's tired and unhappy, and he's feeling so many things at the moment he's surprised he isn't joining her.

"Alright, alright," he murmurs. "Let's see if you have any clean onesies."

He's just finished buttoning the soft green fabric closed when there's a gentle knock at the door.

"Grandpa wanted to say goodnight before he leaves," Clarke says. Sophie makes an insistent noise and kicks her feet, reaching for her, and wastes no time tucking her face into Clarke's shoulder.

Mr. Vie runs a hand over her curls, a tender expression on his face.

"Thanks for letting me drop by," he says wistfully, and the last traces of Bellamy's defensiveness vanish.

"Anytime," he promises, and is surprised to find that it's sincere.

* * *

After Mr. Vie leaves and Clarke gets Sophie down for the night, she finds Bellamy already in their bed. He's staring at a book as if he's reading it, but his eyes aren't moving. He's just sitting. Staring. Looking a little shell-shocked.

But when she collapses next to him, he reaches out to pet her, which is a good sign. He's not entirely catatonic.

"You okay?"

"Better than okay," Clarke sighs, turning her face toward him. He half-smiles down at her, carefully moving strands of hair out of her eyes. "I think we're gonna get to keep her, Bell. I don't think he's going to file a complaint with Anya after all."

His smile grows, slow and bright as a sunrise, and all she can do is grin back at him, goofy and giddy and overwhelmed with relief. She expects him to swear or exhale or say something. _Anything_. Instead, he drops his book and rolls toward her, kissing her firm and swift enough it steals her breath away.

She makes a soft noise-- can't help it-- and threads her fingers in his hair, sliding further down the bed as he settles his weight atop her. He's warm and solid and perfect, hands roaming down her sides like he needs to reassure himself she's really there. Clarke knows the feeling, her hands clutching him tighter; he can't ever be close enough.

"I heard you talking to Mr. Vie," he mumbles, lips soft and sweet on her neck. "About me. I'm so-- I can't believe I get to have this sometimes, you know? You and Soph--"

"I know. Believe me, I know the feeling."

"I love her. And-- And I love you."

At this, Clarke does finally draw back, finally lets him go so she can look him in the eyes. They're full of affection, and she thinks she might finally be seeing what everyone else apparently saw ages ago.

"Too much?" He asks, nervous.

She cups his face in her hands and kisses him, as slow and honest as she can.

"I love you too."

When he breaks away this time, he hides his smile, but she can feel it meet the skin of her shoulder as he noses aside the strap of her tank top and places a gentle kiss there.

"You're right," he says. "It's not too much. I don't think I can hear that enough."

Clarke smiles and pulls him back in.

"I'm pretty sure you'll get used to it."

* * *

Clarke gets him a mug for Father's Day that has Sophie's handprint on it in green paint, along with the words, 'WORLD'S NERDIEST DAD.'

"I'm pretty sure that's a hotly contested position," he points out. Clarke smirks.

"Yeah, but you live up to the hype. And don't even pretend you don't love it."

He grins and cups the back of her neck, drawing her in for a quick kiss. They've only been dating a few months, but so far he was right: it is so good.

It's everything.

"Of course I do. I'm taking it to work with me and all my coworkers are going to give me shi-- uh--shots."

Clarke laughs and wrinkles her nose as Sophie gets a hand between their faces, demanding to be a part of everything, always.

"Well I don't know what your boss's policy is about drinking at the office, but I think the mug makes for a pretty good cover."

"Exactly." He grins at Sophie. "What do you think Soph?"

She babbles back at him like she always does when he speaks to her, but hasn't yet mastered the skill of answering questions. She knows who Mama is, and more insultingly, knows to say "raf" when she wants the giraffe, but she hasn't called him Dad yet.

It's coming, he thinks. And though Clarke is smug as anything, though he's tried every tactic he can think of to speed the process, he doesn't think he'll truly be ready for it when it happens.

"Today could be the day," Clarke says, ever on the same page. "Huh, Soph? You gonna say Daddy today?"

They both look at her expectantly, but Sophie just keeps babbling and clapping her hands together.

"Good strategy," Bellamy tells her, bopping her on the nose. "Save it for when we least expect it. Your mom would have a hard time beating that for a gift next year anyway."

Clarke rolls her eyes. "I'm sure I'd think of something."

 

  
(The next year she gives him another mug, this time one that says 'you snooze, you lose' on it.

It has a new wedding ring inside.

Bellamy has to admit, it doesn't get a whole lot better than that.)


End file.
